


Just Friends

by JungleKitty



Series: Kirk/Brandt Cycle [8]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 15:57:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21139310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JungleKitty/pseuds/JungleKitty
Summary: First time stories are fun.





	Just Friends

**Author's Note:**

> (c) 1997 Jungle Kitty. Star Trek and its characters are the property of Paramount. This not-for-profit piece of fan fiction is not intended to infringe on that ownership. The author's copyright applies only to the creative content and her original characters.
> 
> This story is one in a series about the relationship between James Kirk and Suzanne Brandt. It is #8 in the entire series, and part of the Stories of the First Five-Year Mission (2264-2269).

> Captain's Log. Stardate 5497.4. The Enterprise is orbiting Freya 3. We'll be taking on a passenger--Captain Suzanne Brandt. The Enterprise will transport her to the Wozniak, the scoutship that she currently commands. Captain Brandt is an old friend from the Academy and I'm looking forward to spending some time with her.

"We're being hailed, sir."

"Put it on screen."

The wide purple face of an elderly Freyan appeared on the screen.

"Greetings, Enterprise. I am Ba'lil Smet, transporter chief."

"Captain James Kirk, commanding the USS Enterprise."

"We are prepared to beam Captain Brandt to your vessel. Are you--"

He was interrupted by someone or something offscreen. He turned away and Kirk heard muffled conversation. Then the Freyan faced front again and resumed speaking.

"A full VIP welcome would be appropriate."

Kirk chuckled. "We're prepared to welcome the captain. Kirk out."

The screen blinked out.

Spock turned from the science station. "To what may we attribute Captain Brandt's VIP status?"

"It's a joke," Kirk explained. "When we were at the Academy, she and Gary Mitchell and I were very competitive--and very good friends."

McCoy came forward. "Mmm-hmm?"

Kirk turned to the doctor and spoke in a low voice. "Bones, I resent your implication. I *am* capable of sustaining a friendship with a woman."

"Oh. I'm sorry," McCoy apologized. "I must've missed something. When did we enter a parallel universe?"

The captain stood. "Mr. Spock, you have the conn. I'll be in the transporter room."

***

Kirk stepped forward as a petite, sandy-haired woman materialized on the transporter platform. She saluted smartly.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain Kirk."

Momentarily taken aback, Kirk chuckled and returned the salute casually. "Permission granted, Captain Brandt." They grinned at each other. "I'd forgotten how much you like all that military crap."

"That's why I got into this business." Her eyes sparkled as she stepped off the platform. She looked around, noting that, besides Kirk and herself, the only other person in the room was the transporter technician. "Well, this isn't much of a VIP welcome."

"You aren't much of a VIP."

She punched him lightly in the arm.

He picked up her kit. "I'll see you to the guest cabin."

"And then a tour of the ship."

"Well..."

"You know you're dying to show her off to me."

"If you insist."

***

"The Enterprise is wonderful, Jim. The flagship. You should be very proud," she said as they returned to her quarters.

"Well...it's a great crew."

"No more than you deserve."

He felt the color rise to his face.

"And it's nice to know I can still embarrass you," she smiled knowingly.

"Isn't that why you got into this business?"

"Oh, you're onto me."

"Well..." There was an awkward moment. "I have to get back to the bridge." He turned to leave.

"Jim." She took his hand. "I want to say...thank you--for contacting me personally when Gary died. I--I don't think I could have stood an official notification."

"You were the only one I could talk to about him."

"I read your report. God, Jim. I can't even imagine..."

And then she was in his arms and he felt tears welling up in his eyes. They held each other silently for several minutes. Finally, she pulled away gently and straightened.

"Captain." She cleared her throat. "There are stains on your uniform."

He looked down at his shirt where her wet cheek had rested.

"So there are. Do you mind if I change?"

"You?" she mocked gently. "You'll never change."

He laughed as he moved to the replicator, tugging his shirt off over his head.

***

Captain's Log. Stardate 5498.2. We're stopping at Starbase 13 to refit the navigational computers. Since that will take several hours, I'm granting leave to those crew members not participating in the operation.

"Finally," McCoy groused as the service robot delivered their drinks. "This place used to have much better service." He looked at the four drinks on the table. A mint julep, a Tellarite stinger, a Manhattan, and carrot juice. "Spock, you really have no idea how to have fun, do you?"

"Doctor, as I have explained before--"

"Yes, you have explained before," Kirk interrupted, "so let's not go into it again." He raised his glass and looked at Brandt. "To absent friends." The other three touched their glasses to his and drank a silent toast.

Brandt leaned in, a wicked gleam in her eye. "Jim, do you remember the ion storm simulation?"

"Don't tell that story," Kirk warned.

"Well, now she has to," McCoy prodded. "Doesn't she, Spock?"

"It may prove--diverting."

"Well, then *I'll* tell it," Kirk said, frowning at Brandt. "You always put the wrong spin on it." He turned to Spock and McCoy. "It was back at the Academy. We were doing a simulator exercise--the one where the ship approaches an ion storm. I was in command, Suzanne was first officer, and Gary Mitchell was at the science station."

"And Jim was really hamming it up in the captain's chair," Brandt interrupted, "like it was a genuine ion storm. I was standing to his right and a little behind him. So--without taking his eyes off the screen--"

"I reached over to draw her forward to point out something. But I didn't realize she was turning toward Gary, and I wasn't used to the height of the seat and--"

"Excuses, excuses," Brandt muttered, drumming her fingertips impatiently on the table. "Get to the point."

"I--missed."

"Missed--how?" McCoy asked suspiciously.

"Missed," Brandt explained, "as in, he put his hand on my breast."

Spock looked at Kirk quizzically.

"And left it there," she finished.

"I was momentarily surprised," Kirk said evenly. "I was expecting a shoulder."

"And just to make sure it wasn't a shoulder," she continued, "he squeezed."

"That's the Jim Kirk I know," McCoy commented.

Kirk glared at McCoy. "And once I realized what I was holding, I removed my hand."

"I beg to differ. You *yanked* your hand away like you'd been bitten and said, 'Oh my *god*!'"

McCoy and Spock turned to her, recognizing that tone. "She does you very well, Jim," McCoy said admiringly.

"Indeed," Spock nodded.

"End of story," Kirk said helplessly.

"Not quite," Brandt grinned wickedly. "Gary saw the whole thing and he came over and whispered, 'Smooth, Jim. I'll have to remember that one. *I'm sorry, commander, I was so intrigued by the ion storm, I didn't realize I was copping a feel.*'" She chortled deliciously.

"I'm so glad you're enjoying yourself," Kirk said sarcastically.

"Wait, there's more. Jim turned bright red and he and Gary started laughing and they couldn't stop. Then--you know Admiral DeMarc? He was a captain at the Academy then. He came storming in and just reamed the two of them out--"

"Brandt!"

"Sorry, figure of speech. He 'read them the riot act' for not taking the exercise seriously, and he finished up by throwing them out of the simulator. So, naturally, I--assumed command for the rest of the exercise."

McCoy grinned knowingly. "Naturally."

Spock nodded. "Logical."

Kirk sighed. "Somehow it always worked out that way. The three of us would do something and only Gary and I would get into trouble."

"Well," Brandt explained sweetly, "in this case, I was the innocent bystander. And I had more self-control--the only place you two could keep a straight face was a poker table." She nudged Kirk in the ribs. "That's probably why I outrank you."

"By two and half weeks," he retorted derisively.

"Rank is rank, mister, so watch your tone."

McCoy chuckled. He was enjoying this exchange immensely. It had been a long time since anyone had needled the captain quite so effectively. And Jim's enjoying it, he thought. Despite all his protests, he's actually enjoying himself. Haven't seen him this relaxed in months. He glanced over at Spock. The Vulcan looked completely puzzled. I'll explain it to him later. Maybe.

"Anyway, the next day--" Brandt continued.

"Oh, please," Kirk rolled his eyes.

"--the next day, Gary and I faked a message to Jim from Captain DeMarc. We had him saying something like, 'Cadet Kirk, I have just reviewed the visual recording of your incomplete simulator exercise. By 1500 tomorrow, I want a one-thousand-word essay on why it is considered bad form to grope a fellow officer.'"

McCoy whooped with laughter. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"And--I swear--if Gary hadn't cracked up at the expression on your face, you would've fallen for it."

Kirk rose. "Well, I think I've been humiliated enough for one evening."

"Oh, sit down," she pulled his arm. "I'll be nice. The next round's on me."

***

Two hours later, Spock and McCoy had returned to the ship, leaving the two captains alone at the table. Brandt was choking with laughter as Kirk drunkenly sang "Banned From Argo." He had learned several new verses on his last shore leave.

"Stop!" she cried. "I can't laugh anymore!"

"But there's one more verse and it's the best one!" He finished the song and several people at other tables joined in on the chorus. He stood and bowed, swaying slightly. He fell into his chair, laughing helplessly.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Brandt gasped, "At the end--you were--making sounds--but they weren't--words!" They leaned against each other until their laughter subsided.

"And now," she said importantly, "I'll show you what *I* learned on *my* last shore leave." She reached for the order button. He stopped her hand.

"You're not ordering another drink?"

"No. I just--you'll see." She hit the button and spoke, trying not to slur her words. "A cherry, please, with a nice long stem." She turned to Kirk. "You'll like this. It's impressive. Your admiration for me will be unbounded."

"Mm-hm."

The service robot set a small plate on the table and rolled away. She picked up the cherry that rested in the center of the plate and handed it to him.

"Eat the cherry and give me the stem."

"Why?"

"Because I need the stem and I don't like cherries. I don't remember you being this suspicious."

He did as she asked. She put the stem in her mouth and, for the next ten seconds, he watched with growing curiosity as she furiously worked her cheeks, jaw, and lips, keeping her mouth firmly closed.

"What are you--" She held up one hand to silence him. Then, triumphantly, she extracted the stem from her mouth and returned it to the plate. It had a knot in it.

She put her hands behind her head and leaned back in her chair with great satisfaction. Kirk stared in astonishment. "How did you do that?"

"With my tongue." She wagged it at him obscenely.

"But--how? What's the trick?"

"There's no *trick*. You just work at it until you can do it. It requires quite a bit of dex-ter-i-ty." She stumbled on the word. "I doubt you could master it."

He snorted and hit the order button. "I'd like a ch--" His communicator beeped. "Cancel that." He flipped the communicator open. "Kirk here."

"Spock here, Captain. The refit of the navigational computers has been completed. The crew is returning to the ship."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock. Kirk out." He closed the communicator and turned to Brandt. "Duty calls. Let's settle up."

After paying the bill, they stumbled out to the street.

"Now we have to pull ourselves together," he said sternly. "We can't go weaving around the Enterprise. After all, we're officers."

"And gentlemen," she added solemnly. They both burst out laughing.

***

Captain Kirk strode into sick bay, hoping he looked better than he felt. When he heard the doors slide shut behind him, he couldn't help slumping a little.

"Well, good morning," McCoy greeted him. "You look like hell."

"Nothing compared to what I feel. What can you--"

McCoy handed him a glass filled with a bubbly liquid. "Drink this."

"How did you--"

"Captain Brandt was just in ten minutes ago. I figured you'd both been bitten by the same dog."

As the captain drank, McCoy surreptitiously assessed him. Nothing more than a hangover. "What went on last night after we left?"

"I'm not really sure. I remember--singing--and then, Suzanne did this incredible trick with her tongue--"

"Excuse me?"

"Not that kind of trick. She--never mind." He drained the glass. "I'll be on the bridge."

***

Around midday, the doors to the bridge slid open and Captain Brandt entered. Kirk waved her in as he signed a fuel consumption log.

"Well," he said. "What have you been doing all morning?"

"Oh, the usual. Sleeping. Throwing up. How about you?"

"Those are luxuries I can't afford. What brings you to the bridge?"

"We'll rendezvous with the Wozniak tomorrow and I was hoping you'd have dinner with me tonight in my cabin."

"Glad to. Are you cooking?"

"I'll see what I can coax out of your synthesizers. About 2000 hours?"

"I'll be there."

She leaned in. "And, Jim?"

"Yes?"

"Shave," she whispered and left.

He put his hand to his chin. No wonder the bridge crew had been smirking.

***

Five minutes before 2000, Suzanne was frowning in front of the mirror. One strand of hair persisted in falling out of place and brushing her cheek. Relax, she thought. It's only Jim. God knows there's no trick to seducing *him.*

Except he might say no. He might decide to stay on the other side of the line we've drawn--the one that says *just friends.* He might not find me attractive. "Not in this dress," she said aloud, as she smoothed the folds of the soft fabric that clung in all the right places.

Why am I doing this? I should just put on my uniform, turn up the lights, and forget it. She pushed the same strand of hair back. Why now? Because we're older, we couldn't handle this before. Because I want to get laid. *Time for the truth, girl,* she scolded herself. *Because when he took his shirt off the other day, you almost melted.*

All right, he's attractive. *Damn attractive.* I'm not exactly space trash. Why would he say no? *No reason at all. After all, you've teased him, humiliated him in front of his officers with the simulator story, and made a fool of yourself with that ridiculous cherry trick. Oh, and telling him you spent the morning throwing up--that was a true stroke of genius. How could he resist?*

She looked around the room and instantly regretted all of it--the dress, the dim lighting, the elegant table. She was pulling the dress off over her head when the door signal sounded. Too late now. She groaned and pulled the dress back on.

"Come," she called. If he laughs, I'll die.

Kirk entered and stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly took in the scene. Then, finally, "Suzanne," he said with mock astonishment. "You fussed."

She immediately fell into the old, familiar role. "I thought you should see what a VIP treatment is."

"Duly noted."

What game is this? he thought. If it was anyone else, I'd know. But Suzanne? After all these years?

***

They chatted awkwardly through dinner. The only natural moment occurred when Kirk asked, "Where did you get this? It's too good to have come out of the food synthesizers."

"Well, it did. Apparently, no one on this ship really cares about food. I fine-tuned the synthesizer to produce decent food."

"You mean I can eat like this whenever I want?"

"Right now, only in this room. But I'm sure your people can copy the program."

"They'll start tomorrow."

***

All right, dinner's over, she thought. The moment of truth. She watched him as she set down the coffee service. God, I don't even know what to say. 'Care for an after-dinner fuck?'

Kirk smiled as he noticed her fidgeting with the coffee cups. For a moment, he was tempted to let her stew. But she looked so lovely, so vulnerable.

He stood up and took her hands in his. "Suzanne," he said gently. "What is all this?"

There was an uncomfortable silence as he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. She couldn't meet his eyes. "Jim, we've known each other a long time. And I think you know what this is. It was--" She turned away. "Let's just forget it--oh, what the hell." She turned back to him suddenly, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

He was momentarily taken by surprise and she pulled away before he could respond. She hurried across the room, muttering, "It was a terrible idea."

He pursued her swiftly, caught her arm and turned her toward him, pulling her close.

"Like hell it was."

***

Suzanne made a sound of pleasure deep in her throat. "You know you've had great sex when it's absolutely imperative that you change the sheets." She stretched luxuriously. "And I think these should be *burned*."

She turned so that her head rested in the hollow of Kirk's shoulder. "You know what I love about sex?" she asked.

"I think I have a pretty good idea."

"Other than the obvious."

"Tell me."

"Afterwards--don't laugh--I always feel...beautiful."

"You *are* beautiful."

"And you're a liar. I'm not bad-looking, but right now...well...even knowing that my hair is a mess and I'm wet and sticky, I feel pretty damn beautiful."

He gently kissed the top of her head.

She sighed. "Jim."

"Mmm?"

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

"I am."

"We just had dinner. Can't we just lay here and feel beautiful?"

"No, I'm famished."

He sighed and rolled away from her. "What do you want?"

"Whatever. I'm not fussy."

"Oh, no, you're not fussy. It's *easy* to program a synthesizer to produce four-star cuisine." He got up and headed for the outer room. She watched him appreciatively.

"You're not real, are you?" she asked.

He stopped at the mesh screen and turned. "What do you mean?"

"A man who fucks me into oblivion, tells me I'm beautiful, and then gets me something to eat? It's gotta be a dream."

***

"Soup," she sighed. "This is great. Whatever made you think of soup?" She sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, savoring each spoonful.

"I didn't want crumbs in the bed."

"Then I guess I shouldn't ask for crackers."

"No." He moved so he was sitting behind her and walked his fingers up her spine.

"Oooh, stop it," she chuckled deliciously. "I'll spill." He withdrew his hand.

"Suzanne, why didn't you ever seduce me before?" He began nibbling her shoulder.

"Before, as in the past few days, or before, as in years ago?"

"Either. Both."

"Well, if I'd tried a couple of days ago and you turned me down, the rest of the trip would've been horrible."

"Coward." He kissed the nape of her neck.

"Oh, you've been reading my service record."

"So why not years ago?"

"I used to think it was a bad idea to sleep with your friends." She leaned away from him and set the now empty soup bowl on the night stand. He lay back on the pillows.

"And now?"

"They're the only ones you can trust."

She lay down next to him, propping herself up on her elbows. She began idly playing with one of his nipples. "Now you. You're the Casanova of known space. What held you back?"

"I heard somewhere that it's considered bad form to grope a fellow officer."

"Only while on duty." She began tracing a pattern on his stomach with her fingertips.

"Hmmph. Now, in your case, I was very tempted, but--Gary said you were a lesbian."

"What!?" She stopped suddenly and looked up at him.

"He said you told him."

Suzanne burst out laughing. "And you believed him?"

"At first. But then you started dating Finnegan and, after that, I lost all respect for y--Ow!" he cried out as she twisted his nipple.

"Finnegan was very sweet," she said defensively.

"Finnegan was a monster."

"Only to you. You brought out the worst in him. You were such a--straight arrow whenever he was around. He couldn't resist tormenting you." She bent her head down and kissed the aching nipple. "Gary and I tormented you, too, but you loved us."

"That was different."

"Yes, it was." She pressed her face against his chest and inhaled deeply. "So is this."

Her hands were moving over his body. "No lights," she said and the room darkened.

Kirk exhaled softly as she continued kissing and caressing. He felt her warm breath as she whispered in his ear. "It sure is dark in here. What could this be I've got hold of? A shoulder?" She squeezed. "No, not a shoulder. But hard. Interesting."

She let out a delighted scream as Kirk rolled her over and pinned her with the weight of his body.

"Not a smart move, Brandt," he warned. "I'm stronger than you are."

"But I fight dirty."

"So do I."

This exchange was followed by a brief tussle that was punctuated by laughter, gasps, and at least one cry of "No, you don't!" It ended with Suzanne lying face down across his lap.

"*This*--" He brought his hand down sharply on her bare ass.

"Ow!" More astonishment than pain.

"--is for telling that simulator story. And *this*--"

A gasp this time, tinged with pleasure.

"--is for that nipple twist. And *this*--"

She squirmed deliciously.

"--is for being so damned competitive--" Smack! "--that you're enjoying this--" Smack! "--more than *I* am!" Smack!

He rolled her onto her back, pushed her legs open, and knelt between her thighs. He held her wrists at her sides and watched her struggle.

"Look at me, Suzanne," he said firmly.

His tone sent a thrill of anticipation singing through her. Their eyes met, mischief in his, total surrender in hers.

"And now--I'm going to show you a trick I do with my tongue."

***

"Thank you, Mr. Scott. Dismissed."

"But, Captain--"

"I know how to work a transporter, Mr. Scott."

"Aye, sir." Scotty left, shaking his head.

As soon as he was alone in the transporter room, Kirk tore off his shirt and pants and changed into the ones he'd brought with him. He was straightening his shirt when the doors slid open. He hit a button, the pips sounded and a ceremonial march began playing as Captain Brandt entered the room. Startled, she dropped her kit in the doorway. Then she saw Kirk, magnificent in his full dress uniform.

She shook her head in amazement as she closed the distance between them. He drew her into his arms and kissed her softly. "I know it's not much of a VIP send-off but I really couldn't ask anyone else to put on full dress."

"You're more than enough," she said. "Mmmmm." She ran her hands down his arms appreciatively. "I could tear that uniform off you right now. Unfortunately," she smoothed his shirt and stepped back, "duty calls."

She turned and stepped onto the transporter platform. Kirk got her kit from the doorway and set it beside her. He walked to the back of the control panel.

"Energize," she said.

"Captain Brandt."

He slowly raised his hand in a salute. She pulled herself to attention and returned it.

"Captain Kirk."

He slid the control forward and she dissolved in the transporter beam. His hand slowly fell to his side. He started to pull off the dress shirt, then stopped. What the hell. I like all this military crap, too. He straightened his shirt and strode out of the transporter room to a flourish of trumpets.


End file.
